Posted on March 24th, 2025

My earliest memory of you was during my childhood. My parents introduced me to you, but I was too young to understand your complexion. Everything was just shapes and lights to me.

My next memory of you was when I visited my grandmother in 2016. You motivated her in a way I don't typically see of people her age, though I guess that's the exact reason everyone loves you. You inspire everyone to become their best selves, and we pour love into you as consequence.

I fell in love with you at 20 years old, on a college spring break trip with my friends. I think this moment was meant to be. Like most others, I spent a majority of 2020 and 2021 inside my parent's house, yearning for adventure and excitement. I would scroll on social media platforms feeling raging envy for the young people who were able to spend time with you and experience your magic firsthand. I missed you without nostalgic and sentimental attachment, it was almost primal. I pledged to myself that once I had the wherewithal to do so, I would see you again, and finally, truly, meet you.

Now I sit in my apartment, reeling from the latest weekend trip my friends and I journeyed. In the past 3 years, I've seen you about 15 times. This interest has graduated to an obsession. Healthy? Unsure. Impassioned? Definitely.

I hope we shall soon see a day where we shouldn't part in the evenings. I've never felt an attachment to this degree, and I hope one day something can make me stay.


Thank you for leading me to find myself.